Imperial Pawn
by chisscientist
Summary: A young clone of Thrawn is captured by the Empire, who wish to use him as a pawn. The consequences of this are rather different from anyone's expectations. Mildly AU
1. Ch1: The Perils of Art Merchants

_Disclaimer: Star Wars does not belong to me, I am not George Lucas, and I am making no money off this._

Thrawve Terrin woke. He had been having the dreams again. The old ones, back from before he had been adopted. Waking, soldiers grabbing him, firing, and being yelled at in a language he hadn't understood at the time but now knew was Basic. Long corridors, a ship, a tiny ship and being alone and afraid. If only he could remember how he had gotten there, or why.

His alarm clock was blaring. It was time for school. Thrawve put the dream memories away. He had pondered them many times before, so it wasn't as if he was about to understand their riddle in the next few minutes.

He got dressed, ate breakfast and said goodbye to his human parents before walking out the door. It was quiet and cold. The sun glittered on the ice crystals turning them into sparking sculptures in myriad shades of blue. Thrawve wished he had time to stop and examine the patterns. They were never the same twice, and often gave him ideas he could use later in his artwork. He turned the corner, still watching the play of light on ice.

He ran straight into something, hard. Thrawve looked up, startled, to see a man in a green cloak who appeared nearly as shocked as Thrawve felt. One of the grocery bags the man had been holding had split, and packets of tisane and uncooked ribenes fell out and slithered on the pavement.

Thrawve backed up and apologized. "I am sorry sir, are you OK?" Thrawve bent down and began to pick up the erring food, handing them back to the man when he had done so.

"Oh, thank you," the man said, "no harm done. I have another bag in my pocket." He took the bag out and started to shake it out, then abruptly stopped, staring at Thrawve. "And just what are you, young man?" he asked, frowning.

Thrawve felt somewhat uncomfortable. _Why can't I be something normal, like a Human or a Bothan? _"I am a Chiss. There aren't many of us around here."

"No, you are not precisely a common species, are you? I have never seen any before, save one. How did you come to be here? Do your parents also live here?" asked the man.

"You have met a Chiss before?" said Thrawve, startled. "When and where?"

"Oh, many years back and light years away from here. I'm a merchant and I do a lot of travelling." the man said.

"Do you remember where, though? I have had no contact with any others of my species since I was very small, and I would like to find out more about them. We aren't even in the encyclopaedia!" Thrawve explained.

"That's sad, not knowing about your folk. I don't remember offhand, but I might be able find out if I had time to check my records. Do you want to meet back here after school, and I'll see what I can get you?" the man said.

"That would be great! Thank you very much. You didn't mention your name."

"Well, my name is Mirek Valrar, merchant of assorted artefacts from various cultures. And what would yours be?" said the man.

"My name is Thrawve Terrin." Thrawve stated. "Artefacts as in artwork?" Mirek nodded. "That is fascinating. What type of cultures do you normally deal with?" Thrawve asked.

"All the usual suspects, plus a few of the more unusual ones such as the Vors and the Omwati, though those two are more into the exotic musical instruments than the artwork." answered Mirek. "I take it you like art, then?"

"Absolutely. Actually, that was why I bumped into you just then. I was looking at the way the sunlight fell on the ice crystals and forgot about where I was going. But I must go, or I will be late to class. At 3:15 then?" Thrawve said, suddenly realizing the time.

"At 3:15", Mirek said. Thrawve sped off, hoping to cut down on lost time by running. Mirek watched him go, then spoke into a hidden microphone. "It's him." he said, and switched off. He walked away.

School now being over, Thrawve headed back the way he had come that morning, to where he had met Mirek the art merchant. Something about that meeting was making him nervous, and he wished now that he had brought someone with him. _What is bothering me? _he wondered as he walked along. _Mirek said he had met a Chiss before, but that was after I mentioned the word. Before that, he asked me what I was, which suggests he did not know. On the other hand, when he met that Chiss previously, perhaps he did not ask what he or she was, and therefore did not know. But if he was not curious enough to ask then, why is he now? I suppose it could have been before the Thrawn crisis. It still doesn't quite add up properly. If there is something wrong with all this, what is actually going on? He had no way of knowing that I like artwork, so no way of knowing how I would react to that. Just so long as he isn't another person who decides that it is my fault that Grand Admiral Thrawn and I are the same species. It does not feel like that though. This is different. If there is danger, should I avoid the meeting? The potential knowledge I could gain is very valuable. I am nearly there anyway. I think I will go, but I am going to approach from a different direction and take a look just in case it is a trap. _

Thrawve turned left, so that he could walk up behind the bushes and get close to the place without being seen. He walked up, and found himself suddenly face to face with a human coming the other way - and that human carried a blaster. Thrawve and the man both stopped dead for a second. Then Thrawve turned, and darted behind a tree and into Mrs. Silure's yard. Her dog began to bark. Thrawve did not stop, but continued behind the low line of bushes. Unfortunately for him, bushes don't actually do much to stop a blaster, even a blaster set on stun. Thrawve tripped and fell, half stunned.

He could hear, though, as his assailant crashed through the bushes. "I have him! He came in round the back and very nearly ambushed me, but I have him. Tricky kid." A low muttering Thrawve couldn't quite hear answered him. The man standing over Thrawve picked him up. Thrawve lay still. _Blasters set on stun are supposed to knock you out_, he thought, _so the bushes must have protected me a little. He may not realize I am not completely out. Lets keep it that way. _The man carried Thrawve out to the road, and placed him somewhere, in what felt like a vehicle. The dog was still barking, but no one came to investigate. _Drat. Every other time the dog barked, Mrs. Silure came out and yelled at people. Just my luck._

The vehicle started, and drove away. There was more than one man now, and they were talking. Thrawve continued to lie quietly and listen to the conversation. "Are you sure he's the one we're after?" said one.

"Pretty sure." answered one. It sounded like Mirek. "He likes artwork, right enough. And if you look here..." There came a sound of a bag being rummaged through. "Calculus textbook. Final year history and psychology notes. Advanced level physics lab notebook. And he is only twelve."

"I'll grant you that the child is bright, but how do you know he's Thrawn? They could all be like that for all we know. Thrawve is close, soundwise, but not identical." asked a younger voice.

_These are imperials_, realized Thrawve. _And they think I'm Thrawn- they must be crazy, or rather, they must think I am a clone of their Grand Admiral. Is that possible? Ships, the firefight in space, the uniforms. Imperial uniforms. I thought of this before, but I never wanted to take it seriously. Great. What are they going to do with me? They can't seriously expect me to run the Imperial Navy at my age. They must want a pawn. _

_They haven't tied me up. If I wait a little longer, I should be able to move, but how I'm going to get out of a moving vehicle filled with Imperials I don't know. _Thrawve opened his eyes a crack and looked around. The vehicle was enclosed. Two men were in the front._ The one with the young voice must be in the back with me, but out of my line of sight, _thought Thrawve. He continued to listen.

"If you were in the new republic, would you want to be named Thrawn? Changing your name makes good logical sense. In any case, we will find out for certain once we reach the _Chimaera_."

"Lieutenant Mirr, would you have a look at the kid and see how he's doing?" asked Mirek. Thrawve relaxed, and tried to look as unconscious as possible. _My best chance for escape will come once the car has stopped. _The lieutenant shook him by the shoulder. "Ok, he doesn't seem awake yet, but it might be a good idea to tie him up anyway. The rebels have probably filled him full of all sorts of propaganda about us, and he might make trouble at the wrong moment."

"Spaceport personnel won't see him anyway, so go right ahead." came the answer from the front. _If they are going to tie me up anyway I may as well try to escape right now_, thought Thrawve, and moved, lunging for the door, and kicking the lieutenant on the knee as he went. "Sith!" yelled the lieutenant, reaching after him, grabbing Thrawve by the back of his shirt, and more or less landing on top of him.

Thrawve promptly found himself unable to move. The lieutenant grabbed his hands and started trying to tie them. Thrawve put up some resistance, more from principle than because he thought it would actually gain him anything. Soon enough, he was tied, blindfolded, and gagged too. However, he had managed to bite the lieutenant's hand, and the officer was cursing under his breath.

From the front, Mirek chuckled. "Lively, isn't he? I can't say I'm surprised." He moved slightly. "I suppose this means you heard everything we just talked about, doesn't it? Just so you know, we have no intention of harming you. As a matter of fact, we're rescuing you, and taking you back to the Empire where you belong. I am sure the so-called New Republic has told you many lies about us, but you have nothing to fear, and everything will be explained once you meet the Admiral. The bindings are just to make sure you don't get away while you are still influenced by rebel lies."

Thrawve said nothing. The fact that he was bound and gagged should be eloquent enough by itself. Mirek continued talking, mainly about the wonders of the Empire. _Listening to him, one would wonder why the Rebels had bothered to rebel at all. He sounds, in fact, like an exact inversion of Mr. Porein, the history teacher I had for the first half of this year. I wish I could introduce them. They'd probably have mutual fits of apoplexy. _Thrawve listened. _Maybe there will be something in all the drivel that will actually be useful later._

When they came to the spaceport, nobody inspected them. They went right up to the ship and Thrawve vanished inside with no way to let anyone know where he was.


	2. Ch 2 On route

Once the ship lifted off, they unbound him. Thrawve rubbed his sore wrists, and looked about him. He was in a small room, along with a bed and various other necessities, even including a toilet and sink. It looked like other heavy objects had been moved out in order to make space. The door had an outside lock that had been newly applied._ In other words, a perfect little prison. _The door was currently open, and the man from the front was in there with him. He was also the man in the green cloak, who had earlier called himself Mirek Valrar. "You can ask questions now", he said." Again, I apologize for binding you, but we had to make certain that you would stay put."

"I understand," said Thrawve. "I was not exactly very co-operative." The man looked relieved. "I presume your name isn't actually Mirek Valrar, and that you aren't an art merchant. Who are you?"

"Captain Ellin Serl, of Imperial Intelligence. And your name is not actually Thrawve, is it?" he asked.

"Actually, Thrawve Terrin really is my name."

"I mean the name that you were given by your birth parents, not what you normally answer to."

"My full name is Mitth'raw'verin. Thrawve is my core name, and I use it because it is easier for other people to say. Thrawn is not, nor ever was, my name." Thrawve looked Captain Serl in the face, waiting for a reaction.

"How certain are you of that?" asked Captain Serl.

"Certain." answered Thrawve. "I would hardly forget my own name."

"There are a few things I should explain. We believe you to be a clone of Grand Admiral Thrawn. It is known that one was created on Byss at the Reborn Emperor's orders, but it did not have time to grow fully before the rebels destroyed the facilities at Byss. For a long time it was believed to have perished, but more recently evidence has shown the rebels found the cloning tank empty. That was deemed a mystery and put aside because no one had the knowledge to say where the clone had gone."

Captain Serl smiled. "But then I ran across a picture of you on the holovid, having just won first prize in an art competition. I remembered that the Grand Admiral had always been fond of art, and your comments about the relationship between art and the psychology of different cultures seemed very familiar. I did some digging, and found out about the missing clone. I went out to meet you, and here we are. But about your name; clones often distort their own names somewhat. I am not sure why, but the close but not exact name is almost a dead giveaway."

"I see." said Thrawve slowly. "Either way, once we reach imperial space you can presumably have a genetic test performed to determine whether or not I am a clone of Thrawn. However, have you considered that I have now had eight years of upbringing in an entirely different culture from that of the Grand Admiral? Whether or not I am his clone is almost irrelevant. I want to be an artist, not an Admiral. I dislike fighting with people and have a horror of blood."

Captain Serl blinked. "I'm sure those faults can be cured with a few years of a correct upbringing."

"Can they? And does the empire have a few years at this point?" asked Thrawve.

"The empire is not about to die! The rebels have deceived you. We can and will win against them as soon as we get some decent leadership. Half of our leaders in the recent past have been arrogant warlords who cared nothing for the empire and everything for their own power."

"And that is supposed to make me want to serve the empire?" asked Thrawve. _Baiting the captain probably is not the wisest thing to do in the current situation, but I don't care._

"Yes. No! What I meant is that we have had great leaders before but after The Emperor's death there was a major problem with warlordism and we need a strong hand that we currently do not have. "

"And you think a twelve-year-old boy can provide that hand. Gosh, you must be worse off than I thought." Thrawve answered.

Captain Serl looked at Thrawve and growled. "Just remember what I said, and cut the smart-aleck comments." He got up and walked out the door, fuming. He left the door open.

Thrawve shrugged, feeling a silly glow of triumph. _I never could stand denial of obvious truth. One has to take the world as it is and work within that to move the world towards what you hope to make it become. However, it was silly to let my tongue get away from me in this situation. That Captain could really do me damage if he chose to. Admiral Pellaeon does not know I am coming. There would be an airlock in the ship, not to mention the blasters all three of the officers carried, if I accidentally convince the Captain I am a danger. Better to look harmless and as if I was taking in everything the Captain said and even believing some of it. Not too stupid though, or I will be useless to them and therefore be a liability. A liability might not live very long. If I pretend to co-operate maybe I will actually be able to escape, either here or on the Chimaera. A later escape might even be more embarrassing to the Imperials than an earlier one if they have trumpeted my arrival all over the nets._

_I wish I could send a message to my parents telling them I'm ok_, thought Thrawve. _Of course, telling them I have been kidnapped by Imperial Intelligence probably wouldn't actually help their peace of mind at all. Oh well. The door is open. It might be a good idea to explore a little. They must have food somewhere._

Thrawve walked out the door. He found himself in a small common area. Lieutenant Mirr was sitting on one of the couches, reading a book. His hand had a bacta patch on it. _Oh dear, I must have hurt him when I bit his hand_ was the first thought that flashed through Thrawve's head. _I really ought to apologize. _Then Thrawve shook his head. _I was attempting to avoid being kidnapped and made a pawn of. He should really be apologizing to me._

Lieutenant Mirr looked up. "Hello, up and about I see. Given up on escaping, have you?"

"Actually, I'm looking for something to eat", said Thrawve, avoiding the question.

"Food? Well, that would be in the galley. I'll show you, just come follow me." He walked out of the common room and into a small cubby galley. Thrawve followed, and shortly thereafter found himself seated back in the common room with a large plate of stewed ribenes in front of him. He ate them, and looked about him. The common room seemed ordinary enough to him, but he really did not know enough about ships common rooms to tell. The viewport was open, showing hyperspace. Once he had eaten something Thrawve intended to go and have a look out. The patterns were almost hypnotic, and he had never had the chance to see a hyperspace sky before.

As he ate, Lieutenant Mirr watched him. "Well", Thrawve asked after a while "have you learned anything useful about me, then?"

Lieutenant Mirr blushed slightly. "You're smaller than I thought you'd be." he admitted quietly.

"I'm only twelve. I'm sure I'll grow." Thrawve answered.

"Yes, I suppose so. I just find it hard imagining Grand Admiral Thrawn as ever having been a child. Yet here you are."

"I'm not Grand Admiral Thrawn. I may or may not be a clone of him, but I am still not him."

"You don't remember being him then? Commanding great fleets, winning battle after battle?"

"I was found in the street on Kevale when I was four, and I guarantee that after that point my memories are all my own," answered Thrawve. "If I share any memories with Thrawn at all they are those of a very young child. Actually, I would far rather be an artist than a man of war."

Thrawve spent a while more speaking to Lieutenant Mirr, then headed for bed. It had been a long day.

It took them three days to reach an imperial relay station to find out where to look for the Chimaera, half a day waiting for an answer, and another day and a half to reach the Chimaera itself. There was no opportunity to escape, since he was watched constantly whenever he was out of his room, which he was locked into at night. Even if he had been alone, he knew little of operating spacecraft and activating an escape pod would set off an alarm and drop the ship out of hyperspace. Thrawve spent most of the time drawing, reading his textbooks, and watching the officers unobtrusively to learn as much as he could. They had given all the textbooks but the history text back to him. The history text they refused to let him see on the grounds that it was rebel propaganda. It was no great loss, since he had been halfway through the last chapter anyway.


	3. Ch 3 Meet the Admiral

Ch 3

Thrawve watched out the viewport as they approached the star destroyer Chimaera. _It is one thing to read about how enormous the great ships were, and quite another to see it as you are drawn towards one with tractor beams_, Thrawve thought. _It makes you feel utterly significant, and utterly helpless if you were an enemy. A useful psychological effect, if rather unpleasant right now. I feel like I am being swallowed alive. _

"What do you think of the Chimaera then, lad?" asked Captain Serl. "Impressive, isn't she?"

"She is, at that" replied Thrawve. He watched in silence as they were drawn up inside the docking bay, and the great doors closed behind them. A mobile hatchway extended from their little ship to the floor of the bay, and several naval troopers moved to greet them. Captain Serl led them out, with Thrawve sandwiched behind him between him and Lieutenant Mirr.

They were shown into a conference room where they waited for the Admiral. They had waited for nearly twenty minutes when Lieutenant Mirr began to get impatient. "I would have thought the Admiral would be more eager to see Thrawve", he complained. "Especially after all you have told the comm officer about him."

"I didn't mention the kid; I thought you did in the transmission earlier- you did mention him, didn't you?" Captain Serl asked, looking suddenly alarmed.

"Not over an open link with multiple relays and who knows who listening in! You mean that the Admiral does not know about Thrawve at all?" Mirr asked. Captain Serl nodded. "I guess we are going to find out the expression on his face after all. He probably thinks we've come to report on the Ketain data retrieval. "No wonder he isn't here yet, then. That may not be all that high on his priority list. He stopped speaking, and looked glumly down at the table.

At that moment, the door opened, and a man in an Admiral's uniform entered, followed by a man in a captain's uniform. Admiral Pellaeon obviously, but who the Captain was Thrawve did not know. Pellaeon looked across the room, saw Thrawve and stopped. He blinked, and turned to Captain Serl. "Who is this?" he asked. "This is Thrawve." Captain Serl answered. "We think he is a clone of Grand Admiral Thrawn. We had intended to tell you earlier, but things just did not happen that way.

"A clone of Grand Admiral Thrawn" the Admiral said evenly. "Explain." The Captain coughed slightly, but said nothing.

"You know that a clone of Grand Admiral Thrawn was ordered created on Byss." Captain Serl began.

"No I didn't, but continue."

"Well, the cloning tank was empty when the rebels found the base. I didn't know this either until I ran into a picture of this child here while looking for the Ketain data. He had just won an art competition and some comments of his reminded me irresistibly of the Grand Admiral. That motivated me to search for information about any possible clones, and I thought of Byss. I found the information about the missing clone, returned to Kevale, captured the child and brought him here. I believe he is a clone of the Admiral, and wish to perform a genetic test to be certain." Serl said.

"By all means, perform that test. I will see to it that you have access to the requisite records." Pellaeon turned to Thrawve. "Well lad, what do you think of all this?"

Put on the spot like that, Thrawve didn't quite know what to say. Too many thoughts flashed through his mind and he could not settle on any of them. "I want to go home." he whispered.

"I won't eat you lad. Speak up." Pellaeon answered, frowning.

"I want to go home." Thrawve repeated, loudly this time. "I don't see what use I can be to you anyway. I am twelve years old, know nothing of tactics and strategy and want to be an artist. Even if I am a clone of your Grand Admiral Thrawn, I am not the same person." Thrawve doubted this speech would get him very far, but he might as well see what reaction he got.

"I see." said Pellaeon. "Well, before we decide anything else anything else we should do the genetic test. If you just happen to be a random child of the same species, I see no reason not to let you go home. We are not kidnappers of random innocent children. If you are a clone of Thrawn, we'll deal with that situation when we get there." Pellaeon then told them to go down to sickbay, where the genetic test could be conducted, and called sickbay and told them to open Thrawn's medical profile to perform the test. He obviously did not believe Captain Serl's claim, but he accompanied them to sickbay anyway.

Thrawve walked behind Captain Serl down the corridor and the turbolift to sickbay. His heart was beating fast and his hands were clammy and he could not calm down. Given his memories, he knew what they would likely find. And once they found that out...

They entered sickbay. The lights were too bright, and it smelled of hospital. Thrawve looked at the floor and ignored them. He was ushered into a small room, where a young man in a medical uniform took a skin sample from his hand, which he fed into a machine. In a couple of minutes the answer came up on the screen - a positive match. He was indeed a clone of Grand Admiral Thrawn. Captain Serl grinned broadly and muttered "I told you so!". Lieutenant Mirr and Lieutenant Kelvari beamed. The doctor looked startled and a little nervous and took a step away from Thrawve. Pellaeon just sat, staring at the screen. He then turned to Thrawve. "Welcome home." he said simply.

"What are you going to do with me?" Thrawve asked. He'd known this would happen, but having it confirmed was worse than he'd thought it would be.

"We certainly won't hurt you, if that is what you are worried about. However, I cannot allow you to return to your adoptive parents in the New Republic. For one thing, it would not be safe for you once they find out who you are. You would likely vanish into the hands of their government and be quietly disposed of. It is fortunate for you that we found you before they did." Pellaeon answered. "Here, however, you are very welcome. Thrawn was mentor to me, so for now at least you will be under my guardianship." Pellaeon turned to Captain Serl. "Well done." he said. "However, I would rather you did not mention this to anyone until such time as it is made public. That also goes for you, doctor." Doctor and intelligence officers nodded. Admiral Pellaeon dismissed the doctor, and then the intelligence men, whom he asked to meet him later. This left Thrawve alone with him, except for the stormtrooper standing against the far wall. There was silence for a minute or so as each studied the other. Finally, Pellaeon broke the silence.

"This must have come as a bit of a shock", he said. "Despite what you probably heard in the New Republic, Thrawn was not a monster. Best commander I ever served under, as a matter of fact. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"I just wonder what you're going to do with me. I don't want to be anyone's pawn." Thrawve said quietly.

"I'm not intending to announce your existence and identity to the entire galaxy at large just yet. I think, also, that it may be better to explain you as being Thrawn's son rather than his clone. For several reasons. But in any case, you need not fear hordes of media-relations people trying to stick microphones down your throat." Pellaeon leaned forward just slightly, his eyes meeting Thrawve's squarely. "I am hoping you will decide that you wish to serve the Empire, but I cannot force you to, and I don't intend to try. I do ask that you read and learn the information I give you, and listen to and think about what I tell you. There are many things you should know that you probably have no idea of right now. There is a suite for guests next to my apartments, and you will stay there. Do you have any items from the intelligence freighter that you wish brought over?"

"Actually, I have a few textbooks, some watercolor pencils and a sketchbook that I would like to have back. I also have a backpack and miscellaneous school supplies, but I am not so worried about those."

"Do you have any other clothes?" asked Pellaeon. Thrawve found himself glad that his species could not physically blush. "These are ones that Lieutenant Mirr bought for me before they captured me." Thrawve answered. "They don't really fit, do they? I only have one set of my own on the freighter, since I wasn't expecting to go on a trip."

"I see." said Pellaeon gravely. "In that case, I shall have a tailor come and measure you for something more suitable."

"Thank you. I feel rather out of place as it is." answered Thrawve. Admiral Pellaeon then instructed the stormtrooper to go and fetch Thrawve's belongings. Meanwhile, he and Thrawve walked towards the guest suite.


	4. Ch 4 Of uniforms and lessons

Not long after, Pellaeon had left, the stormtrooper had been and gone, leaving Thrawve's backpack, minus the history text, on the floor just inside the door. Thrawve heaved a sigh of relief. It was good to be alone again. Of course, that did not mean there would not be hidden cameras recording his every move - the Empire did not place the same importance on individual freedoms that the New Republic did. Thinking about it, if there were no cameras now there probably would be soon. Just checking that their pawn or student did as expected. However, he would pretend no one was watching him; he needed that private space. He just wouldn't do anything to arouse their suspicions in case they were watching.

Thrawve walked around the space he had been given. It was large, with a living room, a bedroom with a large double bed, and a bathroom. The furnishings were very good quality but a little ornate and crowded for his taste. He would miss having proper windows- the holograms that replaced them never looked quite the same. Part of the reason for that was because they were designed to fool humans and so completely ignored the ultraviolet spectrum. Still, they were better than a blank wall. The doorbell rang.

Thrawve went to the door, and opened it. The man outside the door wore a uniform of some sort that Thrawve did not recognise. "Hello sir, I am ordered to measure you for your new uniforms." the man said.

"Uniforms?" asked Thrawve, horrified. Admiral Pellaeon had mentioned clothes, but had said nothing about uniforms. Thrawve had a sudden vision of himself wandering around wearing a Grand Admiral's uniform in size extra extra small. Please no!

"Didn't the Admiral tell you?" The man asked, with a frown on his face. "You can hardly go around looking like this if you are his ward."

"What sort of uniforms?", asked Thrawve. "Officer cadet." The man answered.

"Oh. That's ok then." Thrawve said, feeling much relieved. _At least I won't look like a toy._

"Come with me" the man said. Thrawve came.

Gradually, Thrawve settled into his new role. Pellaeon kept his word about not forcing Thrawve to serve the Empire. _Not that I would be much use at this point anyway. _And on the Chimaera there were no reporters or visible cameras, though there were plenty of curious crewmembers gawking at him, especially at first. One poor technician dropped the equipment he had been carrying on his foot when he spotted Thrawve. Exeunt one formerly valuable piece of equipment, and an embarrassed technician with a sore foot.

At least the lessons were interesting. He'd never really been challenged at school, no matter how often they stuck him in with classes with kids years older than him. Here it was a different matter since he came in knowing very little of military matters. Now he was learning astronavigation and advanced mathematics, history from the Imperial point of view, tactics, weapons and ship technology, self-defense, and strategy. There was also psychology of art, but that was a special case because he had no teacher, just himself and historical monographs and art holos. Thrawve enjoyed himself immensely, except when he remembered what it was all for. He had no desire to fight for the Empire, or really to fight for anyone at all. If only he could just be left alone. But even if he ever escaped and returned to the New Republic, it was unlikely he would ever lead a normal life. Those who had created him had seen to that.


	5. Ch 5 Meetings with Moffs

Things continued like this for three months. Then, Admiral Pellaeon called him in for a talk. Thrawve wasn't too worried as he settled himself in a chair across the table from the Admiral. Admiral Pellaeon would call him in at irregular intervals, and it usually amounted to no more than a friendly chat about how things were going with the lessons. Thrawve assumed this one would be similar.

However, when Pellaeon joined him, he looked mildly irritated. "Well," the Admiral said, "it appears that the time for silence has ended. The Moff Council now wishes to meet you."

_Oh_, thought Thrawve. _Now the real trouble begins. I don't think I know how to correctly address a Moff. Also, they are often the people named as power-hungry and unethical by the New Republic. This is likely to be interesting in all senses of the word. _"I see, sir" said Thrawve.

"There will be a council in three days, and we will both be attending. There will also be a more informal occasion afterwards which will include some of their immediate family members as well as other dignitaries. Fortunately, I managed to talk Moff Lin out of flooding the place with media, but it is quite likely something will leak. However, you need to get to know some of the people running the empire, and get some idea of the personalities involved. You may as well begin now. You will be receiving lessons on proper deportment from another instructor before the meeting."

"What have you told the Moffs about me, and what should I say when they ask who I am? Have you told them that I am currently just learning?" Thrawve asked.

"I've given them the same story as I've given everyone on this ship: that you are Thrawn's son recently rescued from the New Republic, and that you are being trained in the arts of war." Pellaeon frowned slightly. "Kindly keep the more unorthodox of your political ideas inside your head, please. Some of them are inclined to believe their own propaganda and it will be better for you if you do not alienate them."

"I won't tell them that having unelected leaders without any form of public input is an invitation to corruption, then." said Thrawve.

Pellaeon winced slightly, but said "Exactly. Try to be politically correct, even if you don't believe it. It is a survival trait when dealing with politicians."

"I really can't say I approve of slavery though, or the treatment of nonhumans as automatically inferior. Both of those cause enormous amounts of suffering and they're self-defeating in the long run." Thrawve said. _There are lies that are basically just to protect me, and then there are lies that harm. These would be the second. I don't want to work for a government that enslaves people for no better reason than their ancestry. If they want me to work for them I'll tell them what I think on those subjects and they can deal with it._

"I can't see them expecting you to be horribly biased against nonhumans given the fact that you are one, but try to avoid making an issue of it, and sidestep their questions on those two subjects if you can." Pellaeon answered.

Thrawve nodded. _I have no desire to make a martyr of myself. Better to wait and escape to the New Republic, if I can. I am going to feel awful about doing that if and when I do so, because the people here have been kind to me, especially Pellaeon. I know he wants me here for a purpose and is trying to shape me into a weapon, but I actually like the man. He has always dealt openly and honestly with me and I don't want to betray him. Life has not been kind to him._

"I will expect you to report to Major Tierian for lessons in deportment at 5pm tonight."

Three days later, Thrawve and Admiral Pellaeon boarded a shuttle down to Bastion. Thrawve gazed quietly out the viewport and watched the approaching planet. There were four battlestations ringing it, and three capital ships currently visible. Of smaller craft there were many: some freighters, and others official vessels. Not Coruscant, perhaps, but impressive nonetheless. Pellaeon was reading something on a datapad. Probably paperwork. Thrawve went back to watching the planet. The planet grew larger, slowly filling the screen.

They landed. The meeting would be held in Moff Tuenha Lin's palace, as he governed the sector in which the current Bastion lay. The palace was imposing from the outside, being mostly sheer faces of grey stone pointing several hundred feet skyward. There was not far to walk, and Thrawve walked beside Admiral Pellaeon with his aide trailing behind them, surrounded by their stormtrooper guard.

They entered the building. A guide ushered them through long halls into the meeting room. The room was large with a high ceiling and chairs arranged in concentric circles. The ones farthest back were for observers who were not part of the council. That was where Thrawve would be sitting, while Admiral Pellaeon would go down to the innermost ring to the seat reserved for the military Supreme Commander. They separated, and went to their seats. Most of the Moffs were here, but more were trickling in as Thrawve watched. Several glanced his way, and stared. Thrawve pretended he didn't see, or calmly returned their stares when they became too intrusive. They usually looked away then. Advantages of having glowing red eyes... humans find it hard to meet your gaze.

Finally, the meeting came to order. Some of what they were discussing went over Thrawve's head. However, much less of it did so than would have if this meeting had been three months ago. And some of it was appallingly simple, so that you wondered why it was being discussed by such an august body in the first place- unless Moff Quillan's objections meant he had some undeclared interest in the Serfonn system. Interesting.

There was, however, one topic that caught Thrawve's attention. It appears that there had been a crop failure in three systems in Meyere sector due to a viral blight of Devaronian corn. The planets affected had been placed under quarantine, and while all but one planet appeared to have the situation under control, that one planet was not doing well and famine conditions had developed. The blight was not yet under control either, which meant the interdict could not be easily lifted without risking further spread of the virus. The cause for the failure appeared to be corruption in the planet's government.

Moff Revnar was in charge of Mevere sector. He was currently loudly declaiming that the situation was a local matter that did not require outside interference. Moff Hort did not agree. "Revnar, I know Rakiss is one of your backers, but we actually need to fix this situation. Lenos is normally a major source of transparisteel alloys and if there's a famine there will be civil unrest and we need the transparisteel for the war. There'd be money for the planet to buy all the corn it needs and more if Rakiss wasn't embezzeling half of it and governing badly into the bargain. You put the man in power, you can remove him."

"How do I remove him without sending in troops? I've told him to step down and he won't go!" Revnar answered, looking thoroughly irritated.

"You could issue a statement deposing him, and invite the citizens of the planet to remove him from office. Or if inciting the citizenry seems a little too, well, _rebellious_ for your taste, you could send in a small elite group of commandos to depose him and put your new candidate in place. Judging from the would-be fundraisers for an insurgency for that planet I keep apprehending in my sector, the citizenry is unlikely to complain." The Moff saying this was youngish, with curly bright orange hair and an upper class Coruscant accent. Thrawve thought back to his lessons. This must be Moff Jeran Andray. A fairly new Moff, succeeding to the title on the death of his father some five years ago. Very old Coruscanti noble family. Apparently, he also has a brain.

"I could do that, but whoever I send would be stuck there for the duration. And also, food is needed there now if we intend the transparisteel shipments to keep arriving on schedule. The delays due to sterilizing it are bad enough," Moff Revnar replied.

"Then do it now. I want your insurgents out of my sector. I'm tired of chasing them. I also have plenty of surplus grain if you want to buy some." Moff Andray answered.

Moff Revnar agreed he would do something about the situation by the time the council met in one month's time, but he didn't seem particularly happy about it.

The council continued on to other matters.


	6. Ch 6 Hobnobbing with Nobs

_Author's Note: I am very busy at the moment, so this will likely be the last chapter until after New Year. Sorry about the wait._

The party that followed would prove quite a contrast to the rather dour council meeting. For one thing, the moff's families had not been approved by anyone, and some of them were rather... interesting.

Thrawve turned away from Moff Sander, who had been giving him odd looks all evening. _Yes, the man does not like aliens, but why is it necessary for him to stare like that? It is undignified._ And stopped. A large lady in an overly ornate dress smiled down at him. "Hello dear. You must be Thrawn's son! I've been wanting to meet you ever since Kerr told me Pellaeon had found you. I am so glad those brave intelligence officers managed to rescue you! You must have had a horrible time among those nasty rebels. Do come sit down". Not really knowing what else to do, Thrawve sat. _If she is here, she must be important enough that I shouldn't offend her. She must be smarter than this; I must be on my guard_. _I wonder who she is. I don't recognise her. Who is Kerr? _

The lady smiled brightly at him. "Well, so how do you like the empire so far?" _This is likely a trap_, thought Thrawve. "I haven't actually seen much of the empire so far," he answered. "This is the first time I've been off the Chimaera."

"Really!" replied the large lady. "You poor thing! There's so much to see and do in the Empire. You must have been so bored on a warship. You're far too young to be stuck in such a place."

"Actually, my lady, I was busy enough with lessons that I usually didn't have time to be bored." Thrawve replied. _I must try to be diplomatic._

"I have a gift for you." she said, smiling. She turned to the servant hovering behind her. "Go and get my surprise, would you?" The man smiled, bowed and left.

"What sort of lessons were you having? You're a little young to be getting lessons in strategy or so on."

"I have been learning some strategy and tactics, but also history and higher mathematics, along with various other things." Thrawve said. _What sort of surprise is she talking about, I wonder?_

"How very boring! I bet there are no other children your age on that warship. Pellaeon is a good man, but he knows nothing about children. Are you very lonely?" she said, looking somewhat worried.

"I am mostly quite busy, and I've always gotten along better with adults than with people my own age, so I haven't actually missed having people my age around" Thrawve answered.

"I suppose so." She frowned. "Did you know that you look a lot like your father?"

"I do look rather like him. I suppose that is natural enough, considering that I am his son." said Thrawve. _Even more natural, considering I am actually his clone, but never mind that..._

"I knew him some years ago, way back on Coruscant under the Emperor. Always busy working on something. Such a gentleman though, and so very cultured. Who was your mother? He never let on that he had a wife, though of course there were rumors... " She sighed, tapping her chin with one beringed finger. "Particularly about that pretty dancing girl of the Emperor's, what was her name, oh, Leanna wasn't it? They seemed to get along rather well. Was your mother human then?"

"No, Lady, my mother was Chiss, the same as my father and myself." Thrawve answered.

"Ah well, I did wonder. It is hard to tell with those reserved types." she answered, looking somewhat disappointed.

The servant came back, carrying a closed wicker basket. He set it down on the table. "Well, why don't you open it then?" she asked. The basket moved slightly. Thrawve stared. _It looks like it contains something alive_, he thought. _What on earth can it be?_ He opened the lid, and looked in. A small white kitten with a pink ribbon around its neck and big blue eyes stared back.

_What do I do now? _thought Thrawve. _I don't think I'm allowed pets- but I'm also not supposed to annoy dignitaries and I really don't know how to say no politely. Kittens were not covered in my deportment lessons. I'll have to accept it; I'll explain to the Admiral later. And I do like cats_.

"Thank you very much", Thrawve answered. "The kitten is lovely. I must thank you." He reached in, and let the kitten sniff his hand. It backed up at first, then sniffed his hand and let him pet it. He removed the kitten from the basket. It looked startled, but started to purr. _I must look really silly holding a kitten. The bow just pushes the whole thing over the top. Pink clashes with my uniform too_.

"I am afraid I don't know your name." Thrawve said.

"Oh, my name is lady Tresina Leanna a' Hort. You've probably heard of my husband, Moff Hort." _So this lady is Hort's wife, _thought Thrawve. _Interesting_. _Not quite whom I would have expected from his comments in council earlier today. _

The conversation continued for a while before Thrawve managed a graceful exit.

Some time later Thrawve found himself facing Admiral Pellaeon, who looked with interest at the closed wicker basket. "What's in the basket?" he asked. Thrawve reached in and pulled out the kitten. "Lady Hort gave her to me. I wasn't sure how to say no." he answered.

"Oh." said Pellaeon.

The bell jingled as a customer entered the petshop. Nimir Tenh looked up from the fishtank he was cleaning, and stared. _Stormtroopers. Six of them. Oh no! They must have found out about the information I sent the rebels last week. They must be here to arrest me!_ The leader looked at Nimir and said "We need everything required to take care of a kitten."


	7. Ch 7 In the Heart of the Empire

Back on the Chimaera, the days passed. Thrawve learned many things, and Sa're'verian the kitten grew, and caused much mischief when she escaped, being found hours latter being petted by a troop of off-duty stormtroopers who were rather sorry to return her.

Thrawve's next major trip off the Chimaera occurred some five months later, at the Empire Days parade on Bastion.

Thrawve sat beside Admiral Pellaeon on the reviewing stand, and watched as the parade began. It was really quite something. The reviewing stand was high up, so one could see the patterns the soldiers and others made below them. Air vehicles formed patterns both above and below them. It was interesting watching the TIEs manoeuvre in an atmosphere, thought Thrawve. Quite different from space, which is where he was used to watching TIEs fly. They weren't really designed for atmospheric flight- the wings would function better if more of the width was in the horizontal axis rather than the vertical. Still, a skilled pilot could do a lot with them in an atmosphere... as he had reason to note right now.

A blur of white and yellow blocked his vision. Thrawve shook his head, blinked his eyes and looked again. Confetti. All over the stand, all over him, and all over all the other dignitaries. That can't have been planned. Thrawve tried to wipe the confetti off himself, but it clung to his hand, so he gave up and watched the others. Moff Andray appeared to be trying not to laugh, while Pellaeon looked disapproving but resigned and Moff Disra looked furious. After a while, someone passed around anti-static wipes and everyone tidied themselves off and settled back down.

The parade went on. And on. It was very impressive, but Thrawve found himself beginning to fidget. He checked his watch unobtrusively. Half an hour to go, and then there would be lunch and a series of speeches, most of which would contain nothing very important. Lunch would be much more interesting right now. On the other hand, Pellaeon would have to make a speech. He was rather looking forward to that, because Admiral Pellaeon was not particularly fond of giving speeches even to his bridge officers, let alone to the entire Empire plus New Republic spies. Thrawve wondered what Pellaeon would say. Probably something short and to the point.

Thrawve went back to watching the parade. Finally it ended. Everyone on the viewing stand could finally stretch their legs. A few pieces of forgotten confetti flew around before landing on the ground. Thrawve stretched, and rolled his shoulders, when something heavy landed on top of him, knocking him to the ground and driving the air from his lungs. He heard someone scream, followed by the sound of blaster carbines being fired. _What the... I'd better stay down_, thought Thrawve. He opened his eyes, and found himself looking at Pellaeon's com button. He poked it with his nose three times in the middle, and the emergency siren went off above them. Next worry, Pellaeon wasn't moving, and Thrawve could feel something wet trickling over him. Blood? Being underneath him, Thrawve could not move enough to be useful either, so he lay still. _Maybe nobody will shoot me if I look dead_.

Noise, more yells and blaster shots, a peculiar mewling voice yelling "death to the betrayer!" and suddenly things went quiet. A voice from overhead asked urgently "Admiral, can you hear me?"

"Thrawve, are you alright?" someone else asked.

"Urghh" said Pellaeon.

"I am fine, but Admiral Pellaeon's hurt." Thrawve answered.

Things quieted down. The medical people came and took Admiral Pellaeon and a couple of other visibly injured away with them. One of the assassins had been caught. It was a Noghri, and judging from what Thrawve could see of the burnt hole in its chest, it was a very dead Noghri. _Noghri + death to the betrayer (the betrayerThrawn), Admiral Pellaeon knocking me down and being hit himself that Noghri was after me! _At that point, stormtroopers came and shepherded Thrawve and the other remaining VIPS away and into a building.

Everyone was talking over each other. Except for Thrawve, who sat quietly in a corner, feeling rather sick. That knife wound Pellaeon took had not looked good, and supposing the Noghri used poisoned weapons? _And he took that wound for me. Why?_ _I am of no real, practical use to the Empire at this moment. Just a pawn and a propaganda tool that might turn out to be something useful at some unspecified later date. Why would the Empire's Supreme Commander risk his life to save mine? He would never have been in the way of that knife if he hadn't knocked me down out of the way!_

_Pellaeon was right about me not being able to go back to the New Republic. Apparently they want me dead so badly they are willing to send people all the way into the heart of enemy territory to do it. If I went back, I probably wouldn't live past the first six months. Even if the Noghri acted without official New Republic approval, which is possible, given their quarrel with the original Thrawn, I would be in far more danger there than here. I will stay here, an Imperial by default. I just hope Pellaeon survives. _

There was a noise overhead. Thrawve looked up. A doctor was looking down at him. "Are you hurt?" the Doctor asked. "I understand the Admiral landed on you."

Thrawve thought for a moment. "I don't think I'm actually hurt", Thrawve said. "Just bruises. Is the Admiral alright?"

"You should be checked just to make sure. You are probably fine, but we can't have you going into shock in a corner if you aren't. I'm sure the Admiral will be fine. He's in the best of hands after all. Follow me." Thrawve followed.

Thrawve was indeed just bruised. Pellaeon was rather worse off, but would recover in time.

Back on the Chimaera, Thrawve found himself doing a lot of thinking, about Empires, Republics, personal survival, and the nature of loyalty. Overall, staying in the Empire seemed like by far the best option, indeed the only option. When he was older he might make a different decision, but if he did, it would not be the New Republic. He might disappear though, into the unknown regions. Somewhere where being Chiss did not mean stares, people trying to control you, or kill you. Somewhere, most of all, where nobody had ever heard of Grand Admiral Thrawn. Perhaps he could paint in peace there.


	8. Epilogue

There was a knock at the door. Leia looked up, startled, as Winter showed in Maitrakh Khimbar and a young male Noghri she did not recognise.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but the assassination attempt has the entire council in an uproar." Leia said. "Is everything fine on Wayland? And the restoration efforts on Honoghr?"

"Everything at home is fine" the Maitrakh answered. "It is about the assassination attempt that I have to come and speak with you. You remember the categorical denial we Noghri gave about our involvement in the assassination?"

"Yes", Leia said, frowning.

"I just learned that it is untrue. I feared to give you the information over the holonet, so I came myself. Kherkin, here, will explain further." The Noghri Maitriarch glared at the younger Noghri beside her, and gestured him forward.

"Lady Vader, the assassination attempt- it's my fault. My brother Khaler and I went to Bastion. We weren't trying to kill Pellaeon, you see, we were trying to get rid of that Thrawn clone they keep saying is his son." the young Noghri answered. "Admiral Pellaeon saw Khaler and jumped in front of the clone and got hit instead. We weren't after the Admiral at all."

Leia stared. "You mean to say that you and your brother tried to kill a thirteen year old boy. Why?"

"He's a clone, Lady Vader. Of the man who betrayed my whole people. I realize now that our attempt was badly planned- Khaler is dead and the clone isn't, but I still think it had to be done. After all, the New Republic wasn't doing a thing. So we did it- or tried to, anyhow." Kherkin replied.

thought Leia. _Just what I didn't need right now_. "I see. However, we do not even know that he is a clone. For all we know, he could actually be Thrawn's son, or just a random child of the same species. And clone or not, he is definitely a child. If you had succeeded, it would have been murder, and I cannot condone your actions. This is much worse than an attack on the military head of the Empire." Leia answered.

"Here, look at this," Leia said, taking a datacard and putting it into a reader. Pictures sprang up of a blue child doing various things. Leia spoke. "His adoptive parents sent me these." She stopped on a photograph of a small child covered in red and green stripes and splotches of paint, grinning wildly at the camera and waving a paintbrush. "Can you imagine an adult Thrawn doing this? I can't. It's too undignified!"

Kherkin looked at the pictures and hung his head slightly. "What do you want me to do now, Lady Vader?" he asked.

Leia sighed. "You will have to speak to the Senate and Council."

Kherkin looked alarmed. "I'm scared of public speaking, Lady Vader!" he answered.

"If you don't like public speaking don't try to do things that have disastrous interstellar diplomatic consequences! If I tried to hush this up, the truth would still come out eventually, at which point everyone would assume I ordered it, which would be a major blow to the credibility of the New Republic, given my position. Didn't you think before you went off and did this?" Leia asked.

Kherkhin mumbled something unintelligible in Noghri, and the Maitrakh glared at him and replied in the same language. "I will go and explain to the Senate and Council, Lady Vader. I am honour bound to speak" answered Kherkhin, looking thoroughly miserable.

The news of Kherkhin's confession reached Pellaeon and Thrawve. However, since Kherkhin was never actually punished for his part in the attack, Thrawve saw no reason to change his previous decision.


End file.
